A Day in the Life of
by DarkVixen28
Summary: Answers to KCS' prompts. Will write as ideas come and the rating gives a little wiggle room.
1. By Any Other Name

By Any Other Name

Mrs. Holmes looked down at the tear streaked face of her younger son. She knelt on the kitchen floor next to him, pulled him into an embrace, and cooed to calm him. This was the third time he had come from the school yard in tears.

"They were picking fun at me again, because of my name," a young Sherlock explained.

"Sherlock is nothing to be made fun of for," she answered drying his face of the moisture her frock hadn't already absorbed.

"Not that one!" he exclaimed. "It was my middle name. Why was I named after Uncle Cornelius?" He broke into a fresh wave of tears at the thoughts of the tormenting the other kids would continue the next day.

Mrs. Holmes hugged him again. "Uncle Cornelius was my brother and giving you his name was my way of honouring him. He passed on when he was a little more than a year older than you."

Sherlock pulled back to look at his mother.

"I'm glad I did. You act so much like him sometimes," she added with a smile.

Her son smiled back and ran off with a newfound pride for carrying the name.


	2. Not Quite A Disaster

Not Quite A Disaster

Shortly after I moved into 221B I had discovered, through a short conversation with my new landlady, that it was only a few weeks until her birthday. I had some money set aside for drink and outings and decided to use it to get a gift for Mrs. Hudson.

On one of my daily walks I stop at the florist. They had a beautiful assortment of flowers and plants but one particular pot of dark pink flowers caught my eye. It was small but quite pretty and I'm sorry to say it was what I could afford. I only hoped our landlady would like them. With the gift concealed in a box, I started home.

I made it home without incident. The box remained by my chair through the evening to keep Mrs. Hudson from discovery it while cleaning. When I heard her retired for the evening I set out to water them. Unfortunately Holmes all but burst into the sitting room and almost immediately spotted the plant.

"For a young admirer?" he asked shedding his coat and hat. He was in a better mood than this morning so I let the teasing alone.

"Actually, they are for Mrs. Hudson. Her birthday is on its way and I decided to get her a gift while I had the money. I haven't a clue as where to put them though."

He looked around the sitting room then lit his pipe. "You can place them in my room. I have several things stacked by my window. I can rearrange the piles to keep them hidden."

I quickly agreed and handed the pot over to Holmes. I thanked him repeatedly for concealing the plant for me. He waved them off and sent me up to bed after I failed to stifle a yawn.

All went well for a fortnight. However, for the week leading up to Mrs. Hudson's birthday I was unable to gain access to Holmes' room to water the flower. He had locked himself up in his room and refused to allow anyone in. London had been unbearably hot for most of that week and I could only hope that he was taking care of the little plant.

The day before her birthday Holmes emerged from his room in his dressing gown and slippers. Upon my mention of his 'charge' he went wide-eyed and I hurried to gather up the pot. The poor thing was wilted and browned by the heat and sun; its soil was hard and as dry as a desert. I ignored his many attempts of apologies as I headed out to discard of the wilted plant.

Holmes went out shortly after that and I sat at my desk figuring out how I would be able to pay my share of the rent and a new plant. Sighing, I finally came to terms with the simple fact that I could not afford both. I settled in my chair with a book to read the day away.

Mrs. Hudson made an excellent roast dinner that night. I was in the middle of enjoying my meal when Holmes appeared in the sitting room carrying a box. It stayed in a corner while he partook in some of the roast and until the dishes were cleared.

"I trust this will make up for my negligence of the first?" he asked as he opened the box.

Peering inside I saw that he had stopped at the florist on his way home. It was another flowering bush a bit larger than its predecessor. It was covered in small flowers in all shades of pink with contrasting dark green silky leaves.

"Holmes, it's absolutely stunning!" said I picking up the pot. I looked over and saw that he had the appearance of a small child that just accomplished something he was told was too hard.

"The florist said that it would not get much bigger than what it already is. I made sure so it could be kept in the house."

We waited until Mrs. Hudson went off to bed to sneak downstairs. Holmes placed it on the table next to the kitchen door where she would see it in the morning. I placed a note with birthday greetings from both of us in front of it then we both retired for the night.

Early the next morning, we met -just as planned- at the top of the stairs. We heard Mrs. Hudson head towards the kitchen and we peeked over the railing. She gasped at the sight of the flowers and stood admiring them for a moment before reaching for the note.

Holmes and I returned to the sitting room with a smile.


	3. The Irregulars

The Irregulars

"Hey! That was mine. Oi nicked it fair an' square!"

Two little street urchins raced by the stairs of Scotland Yard. One rejoined a particularly rough looking group and the other, smaller boy skidded to a haul several feet away.

"That ain't fair, runnin' ta your own grounds," the smaller one whined.

The offender waved a change purse teasingly. "Come an' get it then, ya little coward."

He glared then sneered at the older boy. "That ol' thing ain't worth it and I'm not chicken."

I heard several people yelling and I turned to see the smaller boy's group of friends running up the street. There were six or seven more of them, all dressed in clothing of various states of ruin.

As the group approached the others looked at each other. They were outnumbered by at least three if they started a brawl. Quietly, while their rivals were occupied, they snuck off around the corner without a backwards glance.

The friends all looked saddened to hear of the loss of the purse. I overheard the leader saying they would have to work harder if they were to get enough for bread to feed everyone.

I did not hear the group's response for at that moment the very man Lestrade and I would be arresting walked down the opposite side of the street. Combine the flock of urchins with the people walking past, I was unable to fight my way through to the other sidewalk.

I was desperate to tail the man to be sure he would be at the halfway house to-night. He had a several yard head start down the street and I had no way to get to him. Looking around, I settled on the little urchins with a sudden idea.

"Excuse me. Yes, actually all of you. I have a job for you if you're interested."

They all looked up at me excitedly except for the smallest one that had the trouble earlier.

"Ah c'mon, Ian. Yer just as good as any of us," one of his friends said giving him a nudge.

"Now, there is a man I need you all to keep an eye on. He's a bit short than me, brown hair, well dressed, with a bandage around his right hand. He's just up the street now, but I have an engagement this afternoon and cannot follow him myself. Here are a few shillings for each of you."

I couldn't help but smile when their eyes lit up as I dropped the coins into their hands. Ian still looked a bit uncertain, but I could quickly remedy that.

"Ian, you've the most important job. I need to know where that man is going to be to-night. I want you to report back to me here around six to-night."

He nodded and when he did his dark blond hair fell in his dark brown eyes. I was about to leave when the leader stepped up next to him and tousled his hair.

"I'll make sure 'e gets back ta you, sir." He smiled then ran off, his group following.

Ian threw his arms around my knees. "Thank you!" he squeaked then ran off with his friends.

I smiled as I watched them. They may be helpful again and I would be happy to have them help.

_I did two prompts with one story. I hope that was okay. Hope you liked it!_


	4. I Still Can't Do It

I Still Can't Do It

It is now sometime in the early morning and one of my first painful memories has just woken me

It is now sometime in the early morning and one of my first painful memories has just woken me. The memory was revived by Holmes' experiment on our landlady's sickly terrier. I had to repress a shudder when I watched. I do not like to see animals treated that way, even when I know it is best to end their suffering. The dream that woke me ran through the entire memory and I can recall the whole affair from my early childhood.

* * *

Maxus was a two year old dog that I had been given as a gift the year before. He was a beautiful, rich liver coloured hound. A tuff of cream at the end of his tail matched his left ear and a stripe directly behind his nose. His eyes were the warmest brown colour I had ever seen on any animal. Lively and loving, he would run about with me in the yard then come lay with me when we were called in. Maxus was protective of the whole family and loved them all. He would follow mum and I all around when we went into town and sit just outside the doors of buildings he wasn't allowed to be in. He would not move from that spot until we came out again. Unfortunately it was during a town visit that he was grievously injured.

One of the local nobility had ridden his newly trained mare into town. The poor creature was extremely unhappy and skittish; it was easy to see. It was giving its rider a hard time, prancing from left to right and stomped the ground. When the nobleman had finally gained control over the beast, a young man lost his grip on the cart he was pushing and it crashed into the side of a building. The noise spooked the horse. The rider was thrown off and the animal took off. I had lost track of Maxus during the commotion. I heard his yelps coming from the direction of the horse. Somehow he had gotten in the way of the stampeding horse and had been tramped.

Mum and I carried him home. Papa and I tended to him for a week before it was clear he was out of danger. He would survive but the injuries had caused him to go lame. Papa would not have such an animal around the house. It was decided that Maxus was to be put down and I knew nothing of it until the day it was done.

I carried Papa's gun and he carried my hound, my friend. We were headed to a little clearing in the trees behind the house to put poor Maxus out of pain. The sun was tinting the shadows green as it filtered through the trees. Large fluffy cloud drifted lazily, pushed by a cool spring breeze. All I could think the whole way was how much my friend would like to run around on a day like this.

When we reached the clearing Papa gently placed Maxus on the grass. I laid next to him for a long while just stroking his fur. Eventually, Papa came over to pat his head then he shooed me back to the house. I gave my Maxus a kiss on the nose then ran back to the house, crying all the way.

* * *

I haven't been back to that clearing since I joined the Queen's troops. It really was a lovely area and we had both loved it. Perhaps I shall take a holiday and go back to the old house. I'll visit the town and spend an afternoon with Maxus.

To this day Holmes still does not know why I was so upset when he let my bull pup run out to the street.


End file.
